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Cockney:A Stepbrother Romance(68)

By:Aubrey Irons


     



 



"I am going to kill you!" I hiss into his ear as we stand after it's over; smoothing my skirt down and trying to find my breath.



"Bring it, Red." He grins, winking at me.



Amy shakes my hand, and mercifully not Hudson's, before he's leading me out the stage door to the side parking lot.



"What the fuck was that?" Donald is standing there waiting for us just  outside with his arms crossed over his chubby chest and his face looking  furious.



"Uh, excuse me?" My voice falters as I suddenly have a horrible thought  that he knows what Hudson was doing to me up there during the interview.



"What happened to sticking to the Goddamned SCRIPT, Reagan!" Donald  honestly looks furious, and I'm suddenly realizing that I never glanced  down at his list of canned answers once during the whole thing. I did  the whole interview off-the-cuff while Hudson was driving me wild;  probably giving the answers I wanted to give instead of the boring,  middle-of-the-road ones he wanted me to say.



"I- I don't now, it just felt natural to say what I wanted to say, Donald."



Hudson is tugging me away towards his car, and Donald is sputtering as  he trails after us."Where the hell do you think you're going? Uh, excuse  me, Hudson, I'm not done with my fucking candidate yet!"



We're at his car, and Hudson suddenly whirls on Donald; "Yes, you are."  He says, his voice deep and leaden as he stares down my campaign  manager. He turns to me as he opens the passenger door; "Hop in,  Senator."



*****



This time it's me that hits the emergency button inside Hudson's  elevator, and the surprised look on his face only gets better when I  just start to pull my clothes off right there. But when I turn around  and press my hands against the glass and arch my ass back at him, I'm  pretty sure that surprise turns into something else pretty quickly. He  growls as he enters me, and then he fucks me like he owns me, and it's  exactly how I want him to fuck me. His grip is tight on my hip, even  bringing his hand down to smack my ass and make me cry out against the  glass and the neon New York skyline. He grabs me by the hair and turns  my face into his kiss, and I'm clawing and screaming at the edges of my  sanity as I feel his length fill me again and again and again. When I  come, he's right there with me, pressing his body flush to mine as we  ride that wave together, our choked breaths coming as one as our  heartbeats racing the other in a dead sprint.



I have officially gone off-script; both with the campaign and with  whatever it is I'm doing with Hudson, and quite honestly, I've never  been happier.





P R E S E N T



A few nights later, we're driving in my car and I'm almost insulted when  she doesn't ask me where we're going, but I see the grin on her face  out the corner of my eye as I take us over the George Washington bridge  and onto the Palisades Parkway. I let the horses under the hood roar as I  gun us up the west side of the Hudson, letting New York fall away  behind us in the rearview mirror as we head into the night.



Finally, I cave; "Well, shit, don't you even want to know where we're  going?" Reagan's face breaks into a wide smile; "I mean come on Archer, I  prepared this whole little speech and everything." I shake my head,  feeling alive and on fire and more whole than I've felt in a very long  time.



"I've got an idea where we're going, but please, lets hear this speech  of yours." She sticks her tongue out at me, her whole face lit up by the  dash and her smile just flashing right into me.



"Well, now I've forgotten it." I shake my head as I sigh dramatically; "Your loss too, it was a good one."



She laughs that musical laugh of hers and slides over across the bench  seat against me. And as my arm goes around her shoulders and draws her  close, I realize I have and will never feel more like Steve McQueen than  I do in that perfect moment. It's just Reagan and I, the car, and the  road, and it's just fucking perfect.



I know she thinks she knows where we're going; to our place where the  romance that didn't, that couldn't happen back then. But then is not  now, and things are very different now with Reagan and I than they were  back then a lifetime ago. I mean I was crazy about her back then, even  if I didn't know what to do with it. And now? Well now that I'm in lo-  wow, shit. I feel my heart pound as I mull over that particular  four-letter word, but I don't even have to dwell on it to know its true.



When we drive past the Bear Mountain turnoff I know she recognizes, I  grin broadly seeing her glance back at the sign out of the corner of my  eye. She looks at me with a sly look; "Alright, you got me."



"I'd say so."



*****



She's cracking up by the time I park the car, and as we stroll arm and  arm towards the entrance she looks at me and shakes her head;  "Seriously? A Renaissance faire?"



I grin; "Hey, might as well put that one semester to use huh?" She rolls  her eyes and I pull her to me and kiss her hard as she melts into me.  "You know," I say, breaking away for a second; "I think it's good for  you to get out of that city sometimes. Now com'on Senator, let's go get  us some culture."



"Oh, culture? Is that what we're here for?" She nods towards two guys  dressed in actual metal armor chugging enormous steins of beer while a  woman dressed as some sort of tavern wench with her tits half hanging  out cheers them on and shouts things like "m'lord."



I shrug; "Well, you know, someone's culture."



She laughs, hugging my arm tighter in the chill of the air, and then  we're laughing as she loops her arm through mine and we stroll through  fair-grounds.



"Why do I feel like I'm in high school or something right now?"



I laugh; "Were you a big Dungeons and Dragon's kid in high school?"



"No!" She rolls her eyes at me in that adorable way that just makes me  smile; "No I mean strolling around a fair like this, renaissance or  not." She shrugs; "I always wanted to stroll around a fairgrounds with  some hot boy on my arm." She raises her eyes and looks at me, a blush of  pink spreading over her cheeks.



"Oh, what, like you didn't have guys beating down your door to stroll around anywhere with you back then?"



She shrugs; "Nope, I guess not. Com'on, you met me during that phase, back at that graduation party."



I stare at her like she's insane; "Yeah, and you were a fucking knockout."



"I was a bookworm."



"Yeah and that's worked out terribly for you, hasn't it Madame State  Senator." I shake my head at her as she giggles; "And besides, I did  meet you back then, and you were, and remain, a total babe."



She grins and pulls me in for a kiss; "So, how's the fairground fantasy so far, Archer?" I murmur into her lips.



She laughs and looks around us until her eyes fixate on something behind  us; "Well, you could go win me that stuffed dragon over there, that  might make it complete." She winks at me and leans close; "You might  even get lucky later if you do."



I arch my eyebrows, already feeling my cock stir in my pants; "Lucky-  like I get to pick what we listen to on the way home?" I grin, knowingly  baiting her.



She leans in again and brushes her lips across my ear; "Oh I meant lucky  like you get to bend me over the hood of your car and fuck me like you  mean it on the way home."



She pulls away and winks at me, and I'm practically speechless; "You  know I could just buy you the fucking toy and we could get to that part  now." She giggles as she grabs my hand and pulls me towards the game  stands, and I'm wondering how I'm going to throw a fucking knife with a  hard-on threatening to tear through my pants.



Both Reagan and the guy dressed like a jester stare at me with their  jaws on the ground when I manage to not only hit the bullseye on the  first throw, but then subsequently split the handle of that first knife  with the second and then third throws. I shrug and grin smugly at the  guy as he wordlessly passes me the stuffed toy before I turn to bestow  it on Reagan.



"Ok, where the hell did you-"



"Eh, it's just this thing I can do." I don't need to tell her that back  in Africa, throwing knives were like the chess game of the mercenary  circuit.



She's just shaking her head at me though as she laughs and slips her hand into mine; "I don't want to know, do I?"



I laugh; "Someday, but for now, there's some fried dough over there with  our name on it; classic fairground fantasy fodder." She wrinkles her  nose at the mention of fried dough, but I pull her close and kiss her;  "And then, don't think I'm not going to take you up on that offer of  bending you over that car and fucking that sweet pussy of yours." I  growl, nodding with my chin at the stuffed dragon in her hand and  letting her feel how hard I am as I press against her.